So You Said
by Pachi
Summary: Personal idea on how Ragnarok came to inhabit Crona's body. No pairings. T for language.


"So you said that you're gonna pay me? What am I gonna do exactly?"

"Just a bit longer."

"That's what you've been saying for the past hour you bitch!"

"Be disrespectful and you won't get your pay."

Two are walking, farther and farther into the coldness of a desert at night. One is a tall man, short dark hair that flickers between being purple and black, muscles. Something crossed between a scar and a birth mark in the shape of a large 'X' across his face, over and under his eyes, 'X's for pupils versus round circles. His eyes are dark through the contrast of the white of his eyes, but they contrast each other, making the other brighter. Tight dark shirt that shows a multitude of muscles that must've taken years to build up and loose pants for mobility. Spikes in various array on him. He's impatient and foul mouthed. Doesn't hold much respect for women.

The other has yellow blond hair that's braided together in the front. She has sharp eyes and gives off an air of someone to avoid. She walks in a smooth gait, almost snake like. She's dressed covered but in such a way that men would want to look beneath that, though she's not especially pretty.

The man is beginning to worry. He knew the pay was too good to be true. Shouldn't have left that damn bar. He should've stayed there and gotten drunk. Or gone soul hunting- _anything_ but this. This wasn't going to end well. That much he knew for a fact.

A house came into view. Or what could be called a house. Hardly though. It was all grey- looked like all concrete from what he could see.

"Are you going to tell me what the hell's going on yet?" he asked and she put a finger to her lips,

"Almost, Ragnarok. Almost."

He growled low in his throat but followed her inside.

The building was filled with strange items that he couldn't begin to identify- test tubes and dark machines and the undeniable taste of magic in the air.

Ragnarok had figured she was a witch- she just had that _air_ to her. Now he knew for sure that she was. People didn't just leave this crap laying around- or have it in the first place.

She led him deeper into the building- two heavy duty doors that would be impossible to smash apart- she obviously controlled them with her magic. She always touched the snakes on the doors.

He damn near yelled when they finally stopped. There were huge cylinders in here, filled with a yellow liquid. There were _children_ in them.

"This is my child." She said, pointing at one of the tubes. Some of the others were obviously male but the one she was pointing at didn't have an obvious gender- he couldn't see it's front.

"What's yer brat got to do with anything?" he wanted to know what the hell he was supposed to do! Babies in tubes were just freaking _weird._

"Everything." The woman said simply. He didn't have her name- was he gonna get it? He decided there wasn't a point in asking.

"Ragnarok- please transform."

He stared at her but obliged, switching to his sword form. Her soul automatically aligned to his and she held him, moving him around and looking him over. She muttered something that he didn't catch, and walked over to a pot of smooth, black liquid with steam rising off of it. Lots of steam.

She dropped him in. There was a second delay before he felt anything.

He felt himself dissolving and burning. He could do anything- he could scream- punch the bitch or anything.

He was without sight.

Without thought.

Nothing.

The woman stirred the pot, speeding up the dissolving reaction until there was nothing but the liquid. It bubbled a little bit but mostly calm. She let it cool a little bit- if it was too hot it would burn her child from the inside out. That would be a failure.

She glanced over at the child, and directed her magic at it, drawing tubes into it from the sides and then over to the pot. The air drained from the tubes and she let the blood drain and suck through the tubes to the child.

Another set of tubing cycled the red blood from the child, until the vat was empty and it was all black blood within the child.

"Crona. Success."

His soul was fusing to another- this wasn't his body. Not his body at all. What the fuck was going on? He didn't know. Ragnarok was confused and for once in his life he was scared shitless.

Then he realized he didn't have control over any of that either.

He sensed another set of thoughts. They were tiny and hardly anything but they were afraid and confused. It's soul connected to his. They could resonate.

He was so confused.

Ragnarok learned slowly what was going on. Firstly, he wasn't getting paid. Secondly, his damn souls were gone. Thirdly, he was stuck inside this thing.

Time went bye and once the creature could walk, it was subjected to pain. It pissed him off. Why the hell wasn't it fighting back?!

Finally one day, he broke through the skin, "Why the fuck aren't you doing anything!?" he yelled at the person he existed within.

A little… something. Genderless. It cowered and cried before him, fearing pain and already feeling it from the broken skin.

"Hello, Ragnarok." The woman was there. He looked at his hands. Hands!? What hands!? He didn't HAVE any hands! Just… blobs!

"You fucking bitch what the hell did you do to me!?" he screamed at her and she smiled her snakey smile.

"You may call me Medusa-sama."

Ragnarok began suffering from severe anger management from that day on.

[END]


End file.
